


My Best (And Only) Friend is a Ghost

by lavender_macaronss



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Because that mcc skin lives in my head, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Ghost! Tommy Au, Halloween!, L’Manburg used to exist but the story is set present day, SBI is dead but Tommy’s the only ghost, Slightly spooky, it’s hard to explain, we need more fluff smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavender_macaronss/pseuds/lavender_macaronss
Summary: Tubbo moves into the most boring town to ever exist, or at least it seems to be, a town full of cows and old people.He’s sure that nothing interesting will ever happen to him again, until he starts to walk home on his second day of school and sees a very abandoned little house.Maybe he won’t be so bored, after all.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 21
Kudos: 378





	My Best (And Only) Friend is a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! (Almost)
> 
> This is just some good ol’ fashioned fluff, because there is not enough anymore and I will die trying to reverse the effects of the SMP on our writing (I’m talking about all the angst. Stop it. I’m sad enough already just give me the wholesome stuff)

Tubbo has never been the bravest of people. He gets scared very, very easily, so the fact that he’s even in this situation at all is ridiculous.

It all started when he moved house, his parents having decided that some fresh air would be good for him. Tubbo was not of the same opinion, but what sort of parent actually listens to their teenage child about these things? 

He spent the whole drive there listening to music and staring out the window in a sufficiently melancholy way to make his parents feel at least a little guilty for dragging him here. The drive was practically nothing but cloudy skies and fields that all looked the same, briefly punctuated by a goat or two standing alone and eating things goats probably weren’t meant to eat. They got there at around five on Sunday evening.

The drive there had been almost as boring as the village itself, which seemed to consist mainly of cows and little houses that all looked the same. So they’d moved directly into a horrible small town that had cows everywhere, constantly mooing and grazing and walking around town without supervision. Tubbo had always disliked cows, they seemed rather untrustworthy to him. He mentioned this to his parents, but they just laughed and told him to get ready for school.

His new school was worse than the cows. Nobody spoke to him on his first day except his teacher. He didn’t mind that, he’d always been a bit shy, but still, he was quite offended. Not only were the students rude, the uniform was itchy and didn’t fit him properly, with the worst shade of red to ever exist on it. He spent most of the first day ignoring lessons and staring at his classmates, who all seemed to him to be NPC’s, so boring were they. At break, however, they seemed to come alive, breaking off into little groups and talking amongst themselves. That was fine, Tubbo could simply eat his lunch alone, though the sandwiches were soggy and the apple his mother had packed for him was bitter.

The uniform wasn’t even the worst part about his new school, Tubbo soon learned: there was a small abandoned building on the premises, which he found out was there because the town didn’t like bulldozers and refused to tear the building down (apparently, according to the girl in his class who told him, the sound of heavy machinery upset the cows). 

After school that day, Tubbo decided to walk home through the field behind the school, which unfortunately brought him close to the little abandoned cottage. In order to get to the field, he had to walk directly past it, which was quite the inconvenience for him, being that he was a seasoned coward. The house gave the distinct feeling that he should run quite quickly in the opposite direction, but the walk was faster this way, and besides, he’d seen Lilian McNeal from his class take the same route the previous day.

And so he relented, his internal dilemma over, trudging past the horrible little building through the muddy, manure-covered field in his oversized boots and too-thin socks. He sulked as he walked, wallowing in self-pity due to his unfortunate new life. It was as he was sulking, that he heard a sound from inside the house.

Obviously his first instinct was to run like hell, but he didn’t. He stood frozen, noting the fact that one of the lights inside was on. He knew that running was still very much an option, but shoved that thought to the back of his mind. A strange urge struck him and he found himself making his way slowly to the rickety wooden door.

He reached out, unable to stop himself despite his panicking and opened it. The whole house seemed to creak as he slowly pushed open the door. He noted paintings on the walls, portraits of previous owners he assumed. All of the paintings had the same family in them, a short blonde man in the center ; a lanky brown-haired boy a few years older than himself on the left; another boy, this one with long pink hair and a crown (a Halloween costume maybe? Tubbo thought) to the right and in front of them all, a grinning boy with blonde hair and sparkling eyes that shone despite the grime and dust covering everything in the house. Tubbo noticed that it seemed to be a Halloween picture, two of the boys wearing uniforms that reminded him of soldiers, the strange man in a crown and a royal gown was either royalty or wearing a costume, and the short blonde man in the center wore rather normal clothes in comparison to who Tubbo assumed were his sons. Tubbo glared at the portraits and moved on, noting every detail the house had to offer, his fear now pushed to the back of his mind, replaced with interest in the story of the family he’d seen in the portraits.

Suddenly he remembered why he’d come here in the first place, and started to ascend the steps to the lit room. The stairs under him creaked and groaned, as though they might break in pieces from his weight.

He reached the top of the steps, seeing that the dim yellow light was coming from one of the bedrooms, the name TOMMY was scrawled on the door in messy, slovenly handwriting with little symbols drawn next to it. One of them was a flag he didn’t recognize: red, white and blue stripes with crosses in the center stripe and a black triangle. 

“ That’s weird...really weird“ He thought as he ran his fingers over the door’s surface, touching the name on it. Then he pushed it gently , the door opening agonizingly slowly, he felt his heart rate increase, terror building up inside him along with the urge to run, but something kept him standing there. 

The door opened fully and he found himself staring at a boy his own age. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was the blonde boy from the paintings. For a moment or two, the two starred at each other in stunned silence, Tubbo standing in the doorway, the blonde boy sitting on the floor . The boy stood up, and Tubbo noticed with a growing sense of horror that he seemed to be slightly transparent.

Tubbo did the only logical thing one could do in such a situation and screamed, rather briefly, because before he could finish screaming he fainted.

———————————————————

He wakes up to the blonde boy’s face inches from his own, his sparkling blue eyes staring down at him. Tubbo yelps, the only logical response to some stranger standing over you while you sleep.

“G-Get away!” He shouts, jumping back from the ghost boy (Tubbo had, by this point, decided that he was definitely a ghost). He practically scuttles away, not daring to turn his back on the ghost.

The boy scoffs at him “That’s a bit rude. I just nursed you back to health for like, three minutes!” He tells Tubbo

“Oh. Sorry- I mean- not sorry! You’re all...clear! You’re probably an evil murderous demon trying to kill me!” Tubbo stutters, instinctively reaching for the cross necklace his mother makes him wear when he goes to school or to church.

The boy does not, as he’d expected, start exploding or fading or anything that demons typically do when confronted by religious artifacts in the (very limited amount of) horror movies he’d seen. Instead the boy sighs and walks up to him, bending down so that they’re eye to eye, before taking the delicate little cross in his hand.

“It’s a nice necklace”, he says matter-of-factly, “But I’m not a demon so I don’t think it will help you much.”

Tubbo stares at him, looking absolutely horrified. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Never seen anyone as awe-inspiring as myself before?” The ghost taunts. Tubbo decides then that he’s basically like every other arrogant boy in his school, non-threatening but still annoying, and the fear dissipates a little.

Tubbo shakes his head “I was fearing for my life, idiot. I thought you were a scary ghost, but turns out you’re just a kid.” he says.

The ghost boy glares at him “I’m not a kid! You look younger than me!” He shouts, irritably,

“T-that’s only ‘cause you’re tall!” Tubbo insists, “I’m clearly more matu- I’m arguing with a ghost.” Realization dawns on him.

The ghost laughs at him, a sort of pained cackle.

“Yeah, you were.”, he says, “I’m Tommy. What’s your name?” 

“Tubbo.” He says.

Tommy stands up, holding out his hand to pull Tubbo up with him 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m dead.” Tommy tells him

“Oh. That’s alright.” Tubbo replies, wiping dust off his shirt with his hands (and only succeeding in spreading it around). He wonders if this is the appropriate response when speaking to a dead person in a strange uniform. Speaking of...

“Why are you wearing that?” Tubbo asks, oddly calm in the presence of a ghost.

“...’S my uniform. My brother - the tall one in the painting- he wanted to be a soldier, he wanted to build our very own country. I wanted to be like him. We went off to war for our independence, left my dad behind. We won, I think, but I’m not sure...Then my big brother... I don’t know, man, he went fuckin’ nuts. Then he died. Then my dad died, and my other brother. And then I died.” Tommy tells him, looking away.

“Sorry for asking...We can talk about something else, if you like.” Tubbo mumbles awkwardly.

Tommy turns around and smiles at him, a bit sadly. “Thanks, Tubbo.” He says, “But it’s about...4pm at the moment, and you probably have parents worrying about you. I know my dad would have been. He’d have sent my brothers looking for me and then I’d have gotten such an earful.”

Tubbo shakes his head, twiddling his necklace in his hand “Nah, I’m allowed to be out at least ‘til six, then I have to be home for dinner. 

Tommy nods. “Lucky... Tell me about yourself then, you seem interesting enough.” 

“Uhm...I’m sixteen, I just moved to this town..I-I hate cows. I’m scared of...everything, really. ‘Cept bees. I like bees. Speaking of bees: did you know they can actually recognize human faces? Isn’t that cool? ” He rambles, not quite knowing what to say, his voice shakes a little with his words, totally out of his control “My favorite colour’s green. I used to live near Brighton. I have a little sister...I dunno what else to t-tell you...”

Tommy listens eagerly, his eyes focused on Tubbo.

“Why do you wear that necklace?” He asks, when Tubbo runs out of random facts to tell him

“Uhm..My mum bought it for me when I was little, she wanted me to look nice when we went to church...and now I just wear it all the time, ‘cause it makes her happy.”

“My brother had a friend like that...She always made me dress up for stuff, and she used to lend me her jewelry ‘n shit.”

Tubbo smiles. Tommy’s a kid, just like him. A dead kid, but a kid nonetheless.

They talk for a long time after that, Tubbo becoming more and more comfortable in Tommy’s presence by the second. Before he knows it they’re sat next to each other on the floor, backs against the wall, his head resting on Tommy’s shoulder and Tommy’s head resting on top of his. Tommy is cold, his whole body radiating frosty coolness. Despite this, Tubbo likes it, he hasn’t had any proper physical contact in ages and he’ll admit (at least to himself- only to himself) that he’s touch-starved. Tommy may be cold to the touch, and he may smell strange (not in a bad way, mind you, Tommy smells quite like sunshine in an old attic and a strange hint of something floral is hidden in the rest of his warm, musty smell) but he’s comforting to be near, a welcome sense of clam permeating from him and making Tubbo himself calm down.

Tommy is a ghost, he keeps having to remind himself. An actual, for-real ghost. And he’s not evil or anything, in fact he’s quite sweet when he stops talking.

Before he knows it, it’s six. Tommy is the one that tells him, Tubbo having drifted into a comfortable half-sleep, zoned out but not unconscious. The two stand up and Tommy leads him downstairs as if they’re just two normal teenagers. They aren’t. One of them is literally dead and the other is a total outcast who can apparently see spirits.

They part ways with a promise to speak again tomorrow and an awkward almost-hug.

Tubbo walks home in the late afternoon light, watching the sun dip into the horizon as he strolls back to his house. He doesn’t even mind the cows all around him, ruining a perfectly good sunset without a care for his aesthetic.

He decides that he’ll go back to the old haunted house that’s falling apart right on his school grounds tomorrow. And tomorrow he’ll bring cleaning supplies.

Maybe this town isn’t so boring after all. Maybe, he’s friends with a ghost now.

**Author's Note:**

> This might actually have a few more chapters, just to explore some more supernatural stuff in the town.


End file.
